When Eric and I first got married, he was facing a promising career in computers working his way up the corporate ladder. I was the happy homemaker. But Eric hated the whole scene, especially the office politics. I felt isolated and sad, but was determined not to struggle with my weight like my mother and stuff my feelings down with food. Who needed to seek comfort in food when there was shopping? We were upwardly mobile, but I couldn’t figure out why we weren’t happy.
Now we are downwardly mobile. One of Eric’s friends likes to use that phrase. It sounds better than “we lost our money and now we’re poor”. We used to fight constantly over our money and what to do with it. Eric wanted to spend, I wanted to save. When it was gone, we could have blamed each other, but I thought, “What’s the point? What’s done is done and you can’t argue over something you don’t have.” We got along much better after that.
It’s been hard, but we are much closer now. Our outlook has changed. We don’t “need” things like we used to. I can’t hide in shopping anymore. I’ve faced my demons. Eric is doing the same. We’ve learned gratefulness. My prayer for something to happen that would bring me and Eric closer together did come true. I didn’t expect my prayer to be answered this way, but we’re all the better for it.
There are obvious advantages to being rich. I look forward to when we won’t have to worry about how we’re going to make it to the end of the month. Sometimes both Eric and I get worn down by it. But we also appreciate what we have a lot more. We have a richness in our lives and experiences that we didn’t have before. There are people here who are so rich they can go out on a whim and buy a new top of the line computer as if they’re replacing an empty Kleenex box. Everything here is about how rich you are and the importance of your occupation. The funny thing is a lot of these people seem to be completely miserable. We are learning to be more creative and resourceful, to take the risk of starting our businesses, because what else do we have to lose? Eric is going back to school to pursue his passion.
Johann is benefiting as well. I saw a sand mold toy of T-Rex bones in a catalog and instantly thought, “Oh! Johann would love that!” I marked the page, but we never had the extra money to buy it. My regret disappeared the day Johann led an expedition with Eric and Louise Leike to search for more archaeological evidence of pre-human remains while they were at the beach. As Johann excitedly told me about their adventures his eyes were sparkling and his face was glowing. He didn’t need the T-Rex molds. I recycled the catalog.
Johann saw a child-size drum set and wanted it. Gratefully, I said I was sorry, but we couldn’t afford it. He responded with, “But I need it!” I kindly, but firmly, said, “No. You want it. I understand. It is a nice drum set and would be fun to play with. But you don’t need it. And we don’t have the money.” Later that evening I accidentally dropped one of my earrings down the bathroom sink drain. Out came the bulk purchase of toilet paper from under the sink so that Eric could get at the drainpipe. Johann took one look at the stack of toilet paper and promptly went to work. He built his own drum set with the toilet paper and played it for half an hour. He said, “Look Mommy! I have my new drum set!” I complimented him on how well he uses his imagination.
Eric made Johann an air cannon out of stuff that was lying around the apartment in order to illustrate the concept of radio waves and how air moves. They spent over an hour sending puffs of air onto everything they could think of, including my pony tail. Johann shrieked with joy as the air moved my hair from across the room. A few weeks later, Eric saw a “better one” for only $10 and asked me if he should buy it. I said no. The one Johann already had is better, because Eric made it for him. I reminded Eric of my mistake with the $10 children’s binoculars. They worked, but not as well as Great Grandpa Heupel’s opera glasses, which Johann liked best.
Eric apologized to me last year that he couldn’t buy a nice Christmas gift for me. I told him I didn’t mind. Eric said all he had to give was to help me with the housework so that I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed and have more time to devote to growing my business. I told him that was better than any present he could buy and giving of himself was all that I’ve ever truly wanted. He did get me a small gift that he surprised me with. On an ordinary notepad he wrote me a beautiful note telling me how much he loved me and put it inside a small Russian lacquer box, the least expensive one the store had. He said he felt badly that he could only get that one. He wanted to buy the larger one for me. I said it was beautiful and the one he chose was fine. I wasn’t expecting anything and I didn’t have anything for him. The box is special because of how carefully Eric chose it and it is part of my heritage, but the truth is, the note inside the box is more valuable to me.
For the past three years we’ve dreaded gift-giving occasions, after my mother spoiled Johann with too many toys. When she walked in the door one day and he greeted her with, “Where’s my toy?”, my heart sank. She refused to stop and took pleasure in upsetting me. She didn’t see the damage she was doing or that we had the right to set limits as Johann’s parents. Recently my grandmother had to move to a smaller living space and more of her possessions were up for grabs. I think I was the only one who didn’t rush in to take what I could. When asked what I would like, I listed only three things, two of which had already been taken by my aunt. The third item was wrapped up for me and set aside. My aunt came in and took it anyway and no one stopped her. Times like these can really bring out the worst in people and really show what you’re made of. All I could think of was the part in Scrooge where the Spirit of Christmas Future shows Scrooge the profiteers bragging about what they took from the dead man’s possessions, one of them even took his blankets while they were still warm.
I wrote Grandmother a letter and sent her some pictures of Johann. Everyone was so busy grabbing, I wasn’t sure anyone was spending any time with her. Eric was equally disgusted and said they were forgetting the most important thing there: Grandmother. All of these experiences have clarified for us exactly what we want to teach and model for Johann. We’re not perfect at it, but we practice gratefulness for what we have and look for opportunities to help others less fortunate than ourselves. We read The Table Where Rich People Sit
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